Empty
by Hajislover
Summary: Because he really was tired. And empty. And she changed that. Sasuke-centric.


**Empty**

**Summary: **Because he really was tired. And empty. And she changed that. Sasuke-centric.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto. Or Sasuke. Or Sakura.

**A/N: **Just a one-shot I wrote to get over my writer's block...it seems to be working.

* * *

She just stood over him, blocking out the sun. He was tired. So tired. Of everything. And there was no way to escape it anymore. Maybe she could help him. She had his sword, after all. She took it from him, so she could kill him with it. She _had_ to. He didn't know what he'd do if she didn't. Besides, it wasn't like he could fight her anymore. His chakra was gone. His blood was everywhere. He couldn't activate his eyes.

He was useless.

His hate was gone.

There was just nothing. Nothing left. No pain. No pleasure. No guilt. No desire. Nothing.

"Dammit Sasuke, I'm done with this!"

He looked up at her as she screamed at him. Her face was turning red. Was she angry? Sad? Embarrassed? At him? What. What was she? What was she at him? What was she _to _him?

He sighed. It was this kind of thinking that made him so tired. Three years of thinking like this had left him drained. His thoughts constantly turning to her had left him drained. He physically couldn't do anything anymore. So he watched her. She yelled and yelled and yelled. At some point she started crying. He didn't know when though. He'd thought she stopped that. She _said_ she stopped that.

"Come home! Really, don't you know how long we've been waiting for you to come back?!"

Her words were just fuzzy in his mind. He couldn't think. Couldn't comprehend anything she was yelling at him. She yelled at him through her tears. Begging him to come back, probably. But couldn't she see that he couldn't even stand up? There wasn't anything left. He may have a home to go back to, like she said. Like Naruto said. Like everybody else said. But there was no _Sasuke_ that could go back. There was nothing left of him. He'd given it all up. He was empty. They expected a cold, heartless bastard to get dragged back through the gates, get welcomed home by his team, get punished by the Hokage, then for everything to go back to the way it was. They expected him to eat ramen, and hide his emotions, and brood.

He couldn't. He didn't have it in him anymore. He didn't have ramen to eat. He didn't have anything to brood over.

He didn't _have_ any emotions to hide.

So he laid there. Against the tree she had pounded him into. Looking up at her. Standing in the halo of light around her, looking like a teary, red-faced angel whose presence he wasn't worthy of. Let alone her love.

He really wasn't worthy of her. She didn't have to do so much for him, but she did. If she really wanted him to go back, he would. For her. Only for her. He loved her. He knew he did, he just couldn't...couldn't...fuck, he didn't know why he couldn't love her. He told himself he needed to protect her. To protect the only family member he had left from getting killed. So he left her in her little cage. Nice and safe inside those tall, thick, red walls. But that wasn't true. Because he _did_ kill every threat there was to her. To _them._ Itachi. Orochimaru. They were gone. So what the _fuck_ was stopping him from asking her to help him stand up and hold her and tell her he'd never leave her and he'd love her forever?

Oh yeah, because _forever_ is a long time.

Because he _would_ have to leave her eventually.

Because he _wouldn't_ be around to hold her like she wanted him to.

Because his _pride_ wouldn't let him ask her to help him stand up to say all of that.

But this was his angel. His teary-eyed, pink-haired angel. So he coughed up some blood to clear his lungs and took a deep breath. He forced his face into a painless expression, even though they both knew they were each in more pain than words could express. He molded his features into the closest thing like a smile he could manage, because that was the least he could give her—his smile, the one thing she said she always wanted. His happiness. He _was_ happy as long as she was alive and waiting for him to come home to her—the last semblance to peace he could manage. He forced light into his eyes, to make them glitter with the memories of the two of them together—the few times they were.

He looked up at her and smiled, blood trickling down his chin and beckoned her closer, watching her ram his sword into the ground, right between his legs, and lean in to listen to what he wanted to say.

"Sakura...thank you..."

His smile widened on its own as he felt his chest seemingly lift itself off the ground and toward her, and for the first time in years, he didn't feel completely empty. She was crying harder now, thinking he was going to leave her again. She knew what was coming. She'd had this nightmare before, he was sure, and she'd wake up screaming, but safe in her own bed, comforted by the fact that it was all a dream and he was still worth waiting for. He listened to her words, watched her mouth shape itself into syllables as she cried harder and harder, "No, dammit Sasuke, don't say that!"

"I...I'm not empty anymore..."

"Sasuke..."

He felt her hands cup his face, trying to force her chakra into him. God he wanted it, too. He wanted her to heal him, body and soul, but he knew she couldn't. He would let her go. He would let her go because she was tired, too, and she would waste all of her energy trying to save him and kill herself in the process. So he reached up to her with his broken, mangled, bloody hands, and pulled hers away from him. He pushed her hands back into her lap, looking into her eyes as he did so, "I'm not empty...be-because of you...thank you..."

Sakura felt her heart fall with his gaze. His eyes slipped closed and his grip relaxed. Her sobs wouldn't stop. "Don't...don't go. Don't leave me...Sasuke...I love you!" Her arms fell around his neck as she clung to his body, making him shake along with her. His head tilted toward hers, almost on its own, she would've been fooled if his cheek hadn't stayed pressed up against hers firmly.

"...I do too..."

Her cries continued harsher and more broken than ever when his head fell onto her shoulder. That was it. He's gone. No matter how much he wanted to, how much _she_ wanted him to, he wouldn't come back. After a while—minutes, hours, days, she didn't know, she couldn't tell—her crying stopped. She looked at the man underneath her like she never had before. He looked so peaceful. She could hardly remember what his face looked like when it wasn't drawn up in hatred or disgust. It was so...beautiful. Laying in front of her, once again, was the boy she fell in love with. She felt the calm of acceptance wash over her as her eyes finally dried themselves. It would be okay. She knew it.

Forever _is _a long time, but it was alright, because she would continue to love him forever.

He would _never_ leave her, because he always had a permanent place in her heart.

She had only to _think_ of him, and his memory would hold her secure, like a blanket shielding her from the cold.

She would never forget him, because her _pride_ would never allow her to do that.

Really, they weren't so different. And it made her feel not so empty anymore, too.

**End **


End file.
